


Star Light, Star Bright

by MirrorMystic



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Missing Scene, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-26 00:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18272555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: If Earth needed her-- if Fury needed her-- she would cross the universe to answer the call.But there was someone she had to see first.





	Star Light, Star Bright

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler warning for both Captain Marvel and Avengers: Infinity War. I hope you all enjoy the read. ^^

~*~  
  
Her key doesn’t fit.  
  
After over twenty years of searching for Skrull refugees, twenty years of seeing the dizzying breadth of the universe in all its splendor, it had been a relief to finally come home to something familiar. The Rambeau household in Louisiana was right where it always was, exactly how it was supposed to be. Steadfast. Timeless.  
  
Except her key doesn’t fit.  
  
So Carol knocks. And waits. And knocks. And waits.  
  
And she keeps knocking, and she keeps waiting, because it’s not like she’s just going to melt the lock out of the door with a photon blast. She waits, and she really shouldn’t, because Fury would only page her for a real emergency and she’s kind of on the clock here, but she’s not going to fly halfway across the universe without first stopping by to see--  
  
The door swings open. Carol gasps, and an age-old warmth blossoms in her chest. Those eyes. She’d know those eyes anywhere. And the taut lines of her jaw, and that hand on her hip, and her… well, okay, maybe she didn’t feel like straightening her hair today, but at least she’s…  
  
...she’s not…  
  
...smiling.  
  
“Maria?” Carol wonders. The woman before her stares at her in disbelief, before her gaze narrows into a leer.  
  
“...Auntie Carol?”  
  
~*~  
  
The house is stifling.  
  
Physically, it hasn’t changed all that much over the years. A little dimmer, a little dustier than she remembers it being. But the atmosphere couldn’t be more different. It’s not unlike Monica herself. Here she is, the spitting image of her mother twenty years ago, except her hair’s a bit frizzier and her wardrobe’s a bit brighter than anything that would have ever passed morning inspection. She’s here, and it’s uncanny, because while physically she looks familiar, everything else is just… off.  
  
Monica thunks a glass of sweet tea down in front of Carol, and Carol takes a plaintive sip. Monica sinks into the opposite seat, and as she crosses her arms, Carol catches a glimpse of the logo across her chest.  
  
“Hey!” Carol blurts out, breaking into a proud grin. “You made it into NYU!”  
  
“I _graduated_ from NYU,” Monica says pointedly. “Six years ago. You missed it.”  
  
“...Oh,” Carol mutters, her grin fading. “How was it?”  
  
“Fine,” Monica shrugs. “How’s space?”  
  
“Space is… fine,” Carol clears her throat. “How, um. How’s your mom?”  
  
Monica’s eyes go flinty and hard. “...I think you should go.”  
  
“What?” Carol asks, blinking as if slapped. Monica pushes up off the dining table and heads down the hall, a bewildered Carol following at her heels.  
  
“Hey. Hey, wait,” Carol urges. “C’mon, Lieutenant Troublemaker--”  
  
“I’m not a kid anymore, Aunt Carol,” Monica huffs.  
  
“Oh yeah? Is that why you’re going to your room?” Carol notes dryly.  
  
Monica growls in frustration. She quickens her pace, stomping away into her room and almost slamming the door in Carol’s face-- but Kree reflexes catch it and fling it open instead, cracking into the wall with a bang.  
  
“Leave me alone, Carol!” Monica snaps.  
  
“Monica!” Carol pleads. “What… What _happened_ to you?”  
  
“What happened to me? What happened to **you** !”  
  
Carol stares into the ringing silence, at the shaking of Monica’s fingers as she clenches them into fists.  
  
“Twenty years,” Monica seethes. “You’re gone for twenty years. Now, you come back, and you have no idea what you’ve missed, or who missed _you_. The world is different now, but you? You’re still _exactly_ the same.”  
  
Monica takes a shuddering breath, and lets it out slow.  
  
“...That’s not fair, Monica,” Carol says quietly.  
  
“Probably,” Monica shrugs. She slumps down onto the edge of her bed, propping her chin up on her fist.  
  
Carol takes a tentative step inside. And that’s when she sees it-- Monica’s coat, and luggage, sitting on a bed that’s far too small for her now.  
  
“...You don’t live here anymore,” Carol murmurs, glancing at Monica.  
  
“After I graduated, I stayed in New York City,” Monica sighs, briefly meeting Carol’s gaze. “I was in Manhattan when aliens attacked, and the Avengers tore up the place.”  
  
At Carol’s look of alarm, Monica just shrugs. “...You missed it. But it’s fine. It wasn’t the Kree, like I thought it was. SHIELD and the Avengers took care of it, anyway.”  
  
Carol takes a deep breath. Warily, she pulls up a too-small chair and sits down beside Monica. Monica glances at her, but doesn’t push her away.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Carol murmurs. “I should’ve been there.”  
  
“You should have been _here_ ,” Monica urges. Carol just smiles, sadly, and nods.  
  
“Where’s Maria?” Carol asks. Monica swallows hard.  
  
“...Missing,” she mutters. She waves her hand vaguely, helpless, frustrated, looking so much younger than the woman she's become. “So many people are missing. Just… gone, without a trace. They’ve got people out searching. I came home so I could help.”  
  
“Who’s searching for them? SHIELD?”  
  
“No,” Monica shakes her head. “SHIELD’s gone. Disbanded. You missed that, too.”  
  
Carol blows out a sigh, reaching up and pinching the bridge of her nose. She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slow.  
  
“Monica,” Carol says. “Tell me everything.”  
  
~*~  
  
And she does.  
  
She tells her about all the craziness she’s seen on the news. About the Chitauri invasion of Manhattan. About the fall of SHIELD. Wakanda coming out of hiding. The bombing at the United Nations. The Sokovia Accords.  
  
For her part, Carol tells her about the worrying news she’d heard in passing during her frenzied flight back to Earth. About a gladiator revolt on Sakaar. The fall of Asgard. About the Black Order’s massacres on Knowhere and Xandar. About who they served, and what it was he was seeking: the Infinity Stones.  
  
In the time it takes for them to discuss all this, they’ve moved, from Monica’s childhood bedroom back to the dining table to out on the porch steps. Between them, twenty years are recounted in twenty minutes.  
  
Now, Monica’s sipping sweet tea, her glass leaving dark rings of condensation on the wooden steps every time she sets it down. And after all these outlandish stories, after crossing the universe to get back to Earth in its time of need, it’s this last stretch that seems insurmountable, this last truth that’s just too hard to accept.  
  
On the porch between Carol and Monica, the inches feel like light years. And Maria’s absence hangs like a ghost on their shoulders, like the stifling heat of the Louisiana bayou in May.  
  
“Nobody knows how it happened,” Monica murmurs, gazing out into the trees. She shrugs. “Nobody who’s willing to talk, at least. But there are rumors going around. Online, you know. About the numbers, about the people going missing. About how it was some sick way of… balancing the universe. Half the population, just… gone in a snap.”  
  
Monica sighs. She sips her tea until the ice rattles in her empty glass, and sets it back down on the steps.  
  
“I used to sit out here, and look up at the stars,” Monica murmurs. “I used to wonder when you’d come back. If you’d come back. When I first heard about people disappearing, I called Mom. Nothing. But I had to know for sure. So I came here, and…”  
  
Monica takes a shuddering breath.  
  
“...I thought I’d lost everything,” Monica mutters. “But then you came back. After so long, you came back, and I thought…”  
  
“Why her and not me?” Carol finishes, somber. Monica swipes her sleeve across her eyes.  
  
“...I know,” Monica mutters. “I know that’s horrible to think.”  
  
“No,” Carol shakes her head. “No, you’re right. Grief is about… absence. If you lose Maria, you lose everything. But I was already gone.”  
  
Monica nods. She mutely swipes a sleeve across her eyes.  
  
“Well, I’m here now,” Carol says. “I plan to make it count.”  
  
“But you’re just gonna leave again,” Monica shrugs. “The first time… we thought you were gone for good. We thought you died in that crash. Shit, I was _five_ . I didn’t even know what dying was, and Mom had to tell me you weren’t coming back. Then you came back, impossibly, six years later. You came back… and then you stayed for a week, and you left. Twenty years later, you’re back, only to leave again. How much longer will I have to wait this time?”  
  
Carol nods, silent. Monica heaves a sigh.  
  
“Every night, Mom would have me look up at the stars, and she’d say ‘Say good night to your Auntie Carol’. And for awhile, I did. I kept wondering when you’d come back. Wishing you’d come back. And now you’re here, only to leave again. In and out. Coming and going. I'd get sad. Or I'd get angry. And on the worst days, I'd think…”  
  
Monica trails off. She lowers her gaze from the stars above to the shadows growing between the trees. When next she speaks, her voice is very small.  
  
“...what makes you any better than my dad…?” Monica whispers.  
  
Carol swears she feels her heart stop. She stares at her, stricken, a knot forming in her throat.  
  
“I’m sorry…” Monica whimpers, stubbornly swiping a sleeve past her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know. I know you loved my mom, and she loved you, and that’s more than anyone can say about my dad, but…”  
  
Carol places a hand on Monica’s shoulder, and she chokes out a sob. Monica yanks her into a bruising hug, all but melting into Carol’s embrace, and Carol holds her, cooing into her ear.  
  
“No,” Carol whispers. “No, you’re right. You’re right, Monica. How can Maria love someone who isn’t here?”  
  
Monica whimpers, so like the child Carol once knew, and Carol holds her tight.  
  
“But I’m here now,” Carol says, resolve growing with every word. “I’m here now, and I plan to make it count. There’s just one more mission. One more mission, and then I’ll come back for good.”  
  
“The last time you said that, you were gone for twenty years,” Monica says, dryly despite everything.  
  
Carol can’t help but smile. They part, Carol taking Monica by the shoulders and giving her a reassuring squeeze.  
  
“...Listen to me, Monica,” Carol says. “I need to go. I’m going to find Fury. I’m going to find the Avengers. And I’m--”  
  
“Let me guess,” Monica says softly. “You’re going to avenge Mom.”  
  
“No,” Carol says firmly. “I’m going to _find_ your mom. I’m going to find her, and I’m going to bring her home, and then I will _never_ leave you two again.”  
  
Monica makes her promise. She makes her swear she’ll be back, and she even takes some collateral to be sure-- Carol’s old leather jacket, too big for her when she was only eleven years old, but now it fits her like a glove.  
  
Carol rises into the sky, haloed with golden light, her hair blazing like a crown, while Monica waves goodbye from the porch steps and prays this won’t be the last time.  
  
Carol fixes her eyes on the horizon, and thinks of Maria waiting for her, somewhere out there in the dark.

She blazes across the trees like a shooting star, the brightest star in a lonely sky, and on the steps far below, Monica closes her eyes, and makes a wish.  
  
~*~


End file.
